Two Beds and a Coffee Machine
by princessangelwings
Summary: Sheppard's childhood from his mothers point of view. she's ran away from her husband taking her children with her. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this ages ago and just found it on my hard drive, it's a story inspired by the Savage Garden song 'two beds and a coffee machine'. It's all Sheppard's mothers POV.

I was just eighteen when I married my husband, Jonathan Sheppard. He was everything I ever dreamed of. He was tall, handsome, brave and loving. I knew he would be a great father to the children I had yet to bear. Our wedding was a small affair, just a few close family and friends. A few weeks after he was called into service, to fight in the war with Vietnam.

I remember standing in our doorway watching him walk away, his rucksack over his shoulder his heart heavy with his Burden. Tears ran freely down my cheeks that day, burning as they went. Not nine months later I gave birth to our first child; John, I called him my little Johnny. His chubby face alight with a small smile as I held him in my arms and dreamt of my beloved husband returning safely to us. To meet his newly born son.

The reality was quite different than my dreams though. When Jon returned he was not the same man I married, the man I had cherished. But then I suppose I wasn't the same carefree young woman he had married either. He was different somehow, almost broken. As if he'd left a part of himself in that hellhole he'd just returned from. I tried my hardest to be the woman he needed me to be, but I had a young child to think of now and my attention was elsewhere.

The first time he hit me Johnny was three years old. The bruises lasted for days, but I guess I was luck they could not be seen by most people. He drank heavily most nights, I knew he was hurting but I did not know how to help him. He was still in the marines and we moved around a lot, it was hard to fit in, but I found it got easier each time. When little Johnny was four I gave birth to our second son; Paul. He was so unlike his brother as a baby. Johnny was so loud and demanding but Paul, he seamed to know not to cry too much. They we both my good little boys; my angels.

When little Paulie was ten months old, Johnny tried to stick up for me when he saw his daddy hitting me. He was hit too. There was glass all across the floor from the smashed bottle of scotch Jon had been drinking, and I cut my hand when I fell in it after a particularly vicious blow. Jon went to bed soon after and fell into a deep drunken sleep, like he always did. I picked myself of the floor and sent Johnny to his room; he didn't need to see his mommy crying.

I cleared away the glass and bandaged my hand, all the while thinking of what I needed to do. I checked on Jon, he was still sleeping soundly. I pulled the blanket across him and kissed his cheek for the last time. I went into the boy's room and awoke Johnny from his slumber. I told him to pack some things into his rucksack and he asked me, why mommy? I told him that we were going to go on an adventure and that he needed to pack everything he'd need for a really long trip. He looked up at me his bright eyes asking questions he dare not voice. But my son was always brave, and he asked a few anyway. Is daddy coming with us? No. I told him. Daddy is staying home, but we're going to go on a great adventure to see all of America. He smiled excitedly at the thought and started to fold his cloths neatly into his bag.

I crept back into the room I shared with my husband and took some of my own cloths from the wardrobe. I ironed him some shirts for the week and went back to the boy's room to collect my sons. I loaded them into the car checking that I had everything I would need for them both. Back in the house I wrote Jon a small note. I told him that I loved him, but I would not tolerate him hitting our children. I told him that there were some frozen dinners in the freezer and left him instruction on how to use the oven. I took our saving from the jar in the kitchen and locked the front door for the last time, and I pushed the keys through the letterbox for Jon to find in the morning.

We drove east, not stopping until my tired eyes could drive no more. We stopped at a cheap motel just of the highway and I paid $12 for a room for us to stay the night. I carried my beautiful son from the car to the bed, his head resting lightly on my shoulder as he slept. He murmured in his sleep as I lay him down and pulled the covers over his small body, brushing his unruly hair from his face as I kissed him goodnight. I went back to the car and picked up my baby boy in his car seat, setting it in the middle of the other bed; he did not stir at all. I left our bags in the car, no need to bring them in; we'd be moving again in the morning. I fixed myself a coffee from the machine in the corner and slumped into the chair across from my two sleeping babes, I cried softly to myself. How was I going to get through this?


	2. Chapter 2

One week into our little 'adventure' I had a decision to make. Do I stay on this path, dragging my children across the country into the unknown or do I return to my husband and 'face the music' as it were. An easy choice, no? Only it's not easy at all. I still loved my Jon, even after all he'd put me through and whilst he may get violent sometimes, he was still our boy's father. They needed a father as much as they needed me and maybe he'd be different now, maybe. But then perhaps he'd be the same, only ever watchful, keeping an eye out to see if I pull a stunt like that again. I needed help; advice. I decided to call my mother, surely she'd know what to do, right?

Right. And I'm the queen of Sheba.

We parked by a phone booth on the main street of some dead-beat crappy town, Johnny in the front seat entertaining Paulie with his impression of an airplane.

"Back in a moment guys."

My hands shook as I removed the quarters from my pocket and opened the door of the booth. It took me three attempts to dial correctly; I kept hitting the wrong numbers. I'd never done anything like this before, I was sure the sky was going to fall on me any moment as punishment of some sort.

"Hi, mom, it's me"

"Anna?"

"Yeah mom"

"Where are you? Your fathers beside himself"

Yeah I bet he is, with embarrassment and anger, 'cause I know he's certainly not worried about me or his grandchildren's welfare.

"Oh, sorry about that; mom I need your help" I practically begged, I'd never asked the old bat for anything in my life but right then I asked for the sake of my children.

"My help? What ever for dear? Now when are you coming home and putting all this silliness behind you, Jon told us all about it. Honestly I don't know what you were thinking overreacting like that!"

Her tone of voice told me everything I needed to know. Jon had spun her some tale and now I was the stupid one overreacting and taking his children from him, I could feel the badly disguised scorn down the phone line. I made up my mind there and then.

"I'm not coming home yet mom. Er, me and the boys are going on a… er… trip, yeah. A trip and I need you to send me some money mom, not much, but mom, the boys need clothes and a decent room."

"What are you talking about? You have a house for pity sake! And a husband who loves you. Now stop being ridiculous and go home to your husband- those boys need their father!"

"No mom, I can't. Mom you don't understand, he hit Johnny, I can't let…" but she never let me finish explaining.

"ANNA! I have heard enough of these lies! Your father will be home soon and I must fix dinner, so stop being a spoilt brat and go home. I won't hear another word of this Anna, do you hear me?"

"But mom…"

"NO! Not another word Anna, go home to your husband, do you have any idea what the neighbours are saying?"

"Mom, please listen to…"

"Anna, dear, listen to me, you have a good husband, a nice house and two beautiful children don't throw it all away so that you can go on some crazy adventure. This stops now…"

"No Mom, you listen to me, please, he hit me and Johnny…"

"Anna stop it! Jon told us everything now turn your car around and go home- I have to go your father's going to be home soon and you know how he gets if his dinners late!"

"MOM, PLEASE, MOM… mom? Mom?"

And then she was gone. Just like that, she turned her back on her only daughter and grandchildren. I felt hot angry tears rolling down my cheeks. The injustice of it all! Oh god what was I going to do now? Miles from home, money dwindling, two children who needed food, clothes and shelter. I took the cigarette packet from my pocket and lit a smoke. I took in shuddering breath, held it in, and exhaled shakily. My hands quivering the whole time. I glanced back at the car to see Johnny making a bird with his hands, keeping his brother happy. I guess I'd made my decision. I had enough money left to reach California and from there I guess we'd rent some cheap place and I could get a job. I done waitressing before- I could do it again. Johnny would be at school in the fall anyway, so I'd only have Paulie to worry about in the day. I could manage- right?

I stubbed out my smoke and got back in the car. "What did Grandma say?" Johnny asked in all innocence. I hated lying to him, but how do you tell a five year old that his grandmother is more concerned about what the neighbours think than him?

"She told me to tell you that she loves you and is missing you loads"

"Oh, cool I miss her too, but we'll see her and Granddad at Thanks Giving won't we, mommy?"

"I don't know, baby- they might be busy then."

"Oh. Hey mom can I get that helicopter toy we saw at the store the other day for Christmas, please?"

How easily a child's mind accepts things and moves on to candy bars and toys. It always amazed me. I smiled warmly down at him as I started the engine. "We'll have to see what Santa brings".

We drove west towards the unknown idly chatting about Christmas, Santa and airplanes. My heart heavy with worry but there was excitement there too. I'd made my choice, there was no going back, not now.


	3. Chapter 3

Three

My heart had sunk to the pit of my stomach after my disastrous conversation with my mother. I didn't want to believe that I had nowhere to go and nobody to turn to but the truth was, I really honest to fucking god was alone. Completely alone. Well except for my pair of little angels. I asked Johnny where he'd like to live; he said 'somewhere with a beach and aeroplanes'. I know they have nice beaches in California so that's where we ended up- over 2000 miles away from Jon and my parents.

I managed to convince some ugly, beady eyes landlord to rent us a place with no deposit. You have no idea how disgusted I felt flirting with that filthy slime ball; I had to shower and scrub vigorously to even begin to feel normal again. Money was tight, too tight. I had to get milk and baby food for Paulie and Johnny needed real meals not the crap he'd been eating on the road. Unfortunately I was no gourmet chef. Beans on toast became our stable. It was real cheap and filled us up and Johnny did enjoy eating beans, lord knows why, I hated them after weeks of nothing but beans.

I got a pretty good job as a waitress at the diner across the street, it wasn't bad money, and the tips were good however the boss was a total jerk. He threw a fit when I suggested I might need the afternoon of cause was Johnny's sick with a fever, so I had to leave him home alone looking after Paulie.

I know, I know you don't have to say it. Fancy leaving a six year old to look after a one-year-old baby, especially when said six year old is sick, but I ask you what could I do? What could I do? I had no choice it was that or lose my job and then where would we be, huh?

Besides our little hovel/ bed-sit was opposite Joe's Diner where I worked, so if anything did happen Johnny could call from the window or come and fetch me. I did ask Mrs Pearson next door to watch the boys but when I asked she smelt like a gin factory so I figured she was probably out cold in her own little shithole-come-flat. I called the flat every hour and ask Johnny how he felt and did he need me to come home. My boss glared at me every time I make the call. If looks could kill, I'd seven types of dead right now. Pushing up the daisies, six feet under, deceased, departed, a late Anna, so to speak.

Anyhow, I made my second to last call of the day and I get no answer. I dial again, panic starting to nibble away at my insides. I called out to June asking her to cover for me for 10mins whilst I nip home. I ran across the street- hell for leather. I almost trip and fall over Mrs Pearson who's passed out in the stair well, there's her vomit across the hall way and up the wall and naturally I slip in it, slamming hard onto the cold bare floor. It stinks of gin and stomach acid and I wonder briefly when the old bat last ate something that didn't come in brown paper bags from the liquor store down the street.

I pushed myself up sliding around in the puke; I almost puked myself the smell was really _that_ bad. I manage to get up wipe my vomit covered hands down the wall and onto my plain blue skirt from a thrift store. I reach my door, number 5, and fumble with the locks again. I call Johnny's name, begging my beloved little boy to answer my call, which he doesn't. Finally after a small lifetime, I get the door open. I see Paulie asleep in his car seat on the floor by the sofa in front of the TV but no Johnny. I stumbled into the kitchen to find him there, dressed in a jeans and a sweater, on the floor curled up in a foetal position. I don't really remember scooping him into my arm but I do remember the incredible heat emanating from his small body. I tried not to panic as striped him down pealing his cloths from his sweaty little frame. I place him in the bath and pour cold water all over him, brushing his hair from his eyes with my least vomity hand. I'm shouting for someone anyone to help me, I need to get him to a hospital but I can't leave him alone as I go call an ambulance.

He's still not awake and he's too hot. I'd told him to drink plenty of water and to only wear a t-shirt. But I suppose being six with a fever he felt cold and wrapped up. I can't believe how stupid I was to leave him like this. I knew he was sick but I had hoped it was just a little flu bug or something. And now my baby could be seriously ill and I'd gone to work! What kind of mother was I anyway? I couldn't wait any longer I wrapped him in a wet towel and carry him half across my shoulder my left arm tightly hugging the back of his thighs. I picked up Paulie who thankfully is in his car seat and still sound asleep, and ran out of the door (carefully avoiding anymore of Mrs Pearson's sick).


	4. Chapter 4

Four

Johnny was just coming back to consciousness when I reached the ER, mumbling incoherently about funfairs and feeling sick. I gathered him up in my arms like I'd done before and quickly grabbed Paulie. When I got to the reception desk I remember that the entire place was a mess. There were people milling about everywhere, some with blood on their clothes, other with a distant hollow look in their eyes. I couldn't see any doctors or nurses anywhere amongst the chaos. I asked some guy with a nasty cut on his forehead what had happened, he told me there'd been a massive pile up on the freeway, apparently over ten cars were involved. He told me he'd been waiting for over two hours and that unless it was an absolute emergency no one was getting seen. Damn it.

I snuggled my face into Johnny's left side, his skin still warm but cooler that it had been before. He smelled of kid sweat, you know that sweat that babies have, like stale milk. All the noise woke Paulie up and he began to fuss, so I settled myself into a hard uncomfortable seat and cooed him until he drifted back off. I set his car seat on the floor by my feet and shifted Johnny into a more comfortable position in my arms. Johnny continued to mumble and since his temperature was still pretty high I asked the guy with the cut on his head to fetch me a nurse if he could find one. He wondered off into the chaos, blood still oozing down the side of his face, soaking the collar of his work shirt.

I sat there for god only knows how long, holding my precious boy to my chest. I watched as more people piled into the waiting room, sitting down anywhere 'cause all the seats had now gone. Some of them were injured, bleeding or clutching broken limbs and fingers tightly to their own chests to try and numb the pain. Some were awaiting news of loved ones, huddled figures, with messy hair from fingers being wrung through it with worry, and red blotchy eyes and cheeks. I doubted I looked any better than they did, vomit all over my skirt and a damp, clammy child wrapped up in a once-white towel.

Eventually he came back- the man with the cut on his forehead- a nurse trailing behind him, looking stressed and in desperate need of some sleep or coffee, or more than likely both. She picked up Paulie in his seat and asked me to follow her. We walked through more blood and crying and sickness that I had ever seen in one place. She led me to small room with three beds, two of which were occupied by a pair of little girls sleeping. I couldn't see how badly they were hurt, their parents were crowding around their beds protectively. The nurse motioned for me to lay Johnny on the bed, so that she could check him over, meanwhile she put Paulie safely on an armchair by the bed.

Johnny looked so small and fragile on that large white-sheeted bed, it broke my heart to see, truly it did. The nurse took his temperature, pulse and blood pressure; all the while I held his hand in mine. She asked what had happened, if he'd eaten anything unusual or been ill recently. I told her that he'd had an earache yesterday but it hadn't seamed too painful, so I'd almost forgotten about it. She checked his ear and did the normal doctor thing where she said,

"Hum, I'll have to get a doctor to check but I think he had an ear infection which has caused his temperature to spike, from what you've told me I'd guess that his fever has broken. I need a doctor to confirm but a short course of antibiotics should sort out the infection. I get a doctor to come by and see you as soon as one becomes available, if you'll just wait here." And then she left.

An ear infection had caused all this panic and worry? It seamed almost too good to be true. I allowed my self a moment to collect my thoughts and myself. I sat in an empty chair by Johnny's bed took a deep breath, and berated myself for being such a terrible mother. I cried into my hands, tears of relief and borderline hysteria. I could feel the eyes of the other parents in the room boring into my scull. Someone gently griped my wrists and pulled my hands from my face. I looked into the deep, sea blue eyes of the man who'd helped me find a nurse.

"Sush, it's okay. I heard the nurse she thinks he'll be fine… er, do you want me to call someone for you?"

I almost laughed, whom exactly would he call? "No, no it's okay… but thank you, for everything."

"Okay then. My names David do you want me to wait with you? If I'm lucky the doctor might look me over when he's finished with…" He gestured toward the bed when my son lay prone.

"Johnny. His names Johnny, and yes actually I would like that. My names Anna by the way."

"Nice to meet you Anna." I grunted noncommittally, and began stroking the cowlicks off Johnny's face.

The doctor came by some time later looking even more harassed than the nurse had. I guess he was in a hurry 'cause he barely spoke to me. He checked Johnny's vitals, looked in his ears and confirmed the nurse's diagnosis. He wrote me a hurried prescription for some mild antibiotics and left with out so much as looking at poor David, who thankfully had stopped bleeding everywhere and was now curled up, asleep in the chair I had previously occupied. I gave him a sad smile as I left with Johnny fast asleep in my arms, and Paulie playing happily with his toy car still in his seat.

The drive home was torturous; I kept imagining what could have happened that day. If I'd not made that call home Johnny could have died. If I'd not acted quickly enough or if I'd taken the freeway to the hospital. What if the nurses and doctors had asked me more questions? They could have taken my children from me. I could have lost everything that drab Tuesday afternoon in August.

Mrs Pearson was thankfully absent from the stairwell when we got home. As was her rancid vomit, someone (not her- never her) had cleaned it up. I put Johnny to bed, he'd woken in the car and I'd given him a dose of the antibiotics I'd bought. I fed Paulie and set him down on the floor by the TV as I sat on the sofa and thanked my lucky stars today had turned out okay.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5 last one.

Things got better after the fever incident. My boss at work actually chilled out a little when he realised that his unwillingness to let me have an afternoon off had cause me to abandon my very sick child. To be honest I think he felt pretty guilty, I mean he had kids of his own, he must know how damn hard it is. Johnny when to school in the fall, he was so proud that first day. He told me that he was all grown up now and that he'd take care of me and Paulie forever. It's awful to admit to this, but you know what? I really wanted to believe him. Imagine that, a fully grown woman, taking such comfort from her five year old son's innocent words.

I was prouder of him than I could say when I left him at the school gate. All smart and neat lookin'. Of course he came home with a split lip and bruised knuckles and a sternly written note from his teacher. I remember smirking when he told me why he'd gotten into a fight. Apparently some kid had been pickin' on one of the smaller ones- as kids do- and my Johnny had tried to stop it. Naturally being a kid he'd solved the problem with fists but I was still proud of him for trying to stick up for the weaker ones.

As the years went by, letters from school became a common occurrence, but there nature began to change. At first they were the usually: your son's been in a fight, your son's being bullied, and your son's work is 'adequate'. Over time the fighting and the bulling ceased. I don't know why, perhaps Johnny had finally beaten every bully in the school, or maybe they'd gotten bored with stealing his lunch money, but the letters still came. Except now they were request for me to go to parent teacher meeting to discuss Johnny's academic achievements. It seemed I had a little math wiz on my hands! Who'd have thought it? Math had never been my forte and I can't imagine it had ever been Jon's. But, never the less, the teachers all agreed that my son was 'gifted'.

Paulie was at junior school too now. But just like when he was a baby he kept his head down. He never made any ripples of any kind; he was smart but not too smart, quiet but not overlooked. The teachers at Johnny's school wanted to talk about extra classes, to further improve his math skills. He was already on the football team and in the chess club, I couldn't see how they expected a ten year old to fit it all in. that's what they wanted to discuss. Johnny didn't want to give up football or chess even though the teachers had asked him to. It was a rather brief meeting. I asked Johnny what he wanted and then I told him it was his choice. Of course he chose his football and chess, just like I knew he would.

The head teacher accused me of being a bad mother for not forcing Johnny to do extra math. I couldn't believe it! Who the hell did he think he was? I knew I wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination but I was no worse than others. In fact compared with some of the drunks and druggies I saw at the school gate I was practically a model parent! At least I loved my children. Surprisingly enough my little speech didn't go down all that well and the colossal asshole brought up Johnny's old records with all the fighting incidents still present and correct. I decided it was time to move- again. So, I packed our few meagre belonging into the beaten-up truck and left town. I'd had enough and the boys wanted a change too. We travelled north, away from the bigger cities and into a more rural town. Thankfully we had some cash saved so I didn't have to flirt to secure a roof over our heads this time. The apartment block was in a pretty poor part of town but it was well furnished and clean. I honestly couldn't ask for more. We settled there for longer than I ever expected, but then my health did take a downward turn when Johnny was about fifteen. Apparently smoking forty a day is bad for you. Still not much I could do about that now. I figured we could say in this deadbeat town until my boys finished High School. Johnny wanted to go into the Air Force and with his maths grades they'd give him a scholarship to college.

Johnny only got about a year to go before graduation so he promised to get his head down and not get into any fights. I'd like to say I took him at his word, he is my son after all, surely I should have faith that he'd keep the promise? Yeah well I knew him better than that! Oh I know he'd try but as soon as he sees some jock beatin' on a geek or the fat kid or whoever he'll be there to save the day, and get into trouble. I couldn't berate him for it either cause I whole heartedly agreed with his morals- they came from me didn't they? But still I didn't want him to through his chances away so I made him promise anyway.

Paulie or should I say Paul- he'd decide he no longer wants to be the baby so 'mom stop callin' me that I sound like a baby!'. To appease him we now call him Paul but Johnny still calls him Paulie when he wants to annoy him! They fight and curse just like all teenage brothers I suppose but I know they look out for each other and that's all I can ask for.

My crappy job over at del's diner had managed to sustain us throughout the years, there had been a few dates with guys in that time but most had run for the hills the second they saw my babes. I didn't really mind all that much tell ya truth. If they can't handle my two angels then they simply ain't worth botherin' with. It was a bit lonely though. Johnny was out a lot playing football or hanging out with his friends at the mall. He had some pretty weird ones I must say. Most of the jocks on the football team loved my Johnny, he was funny, witty and a talented quarterback. But I saw the way he acted around them, he treated them more like workmates that friends, his only really friends I ever saw were from the chess club. There was this one kid, so clever made me feel like a slug, he used to chat with Johnny and Paul over at the park about advanced chemistry and a whole host of things I didn't understand. My boys did though. I was so proud of the pair of them; they were good boys, no drugs or anything like that.

When it came for Johnny to decide on his future he told me he was gonna get a job in town at the factory to help pay the bills. I was aghast, I couldn't let him through away his dreams. All he'd ever wanted to do since he was a child was to fly planes; his whole room was covered with models and posters of em! I refused to let mine and his fathers mistakes ruin his or Paul's lives. I marched him down to the Air Force office in town, I didn't really want him to join the armed forces and go get shot but I knew it was his only chance and well if it meant he could achieve his dreams I'd be happy with that. he protested all the way there but his reasons were falling on deaf ears. He wanted to look after me and Paul, to be the man of the house at the expense of everything he'd ever wanted. I could at least give him this opportunity. The Air Force would pay for him to go to College something we'd never be able to afford, it was a chance of a lifetime for him.

We left the office with our roles reversed. He was so damned excited about going to college and flying planes but my heart had sank below my shoes. I didn't want him to go. I knew he had to- he'd have no life here. But still I wasn't sure I could just watch my baby walk away.

He graduated top of his class- just like I knew he would. I was so unbelievably proud that day, my whole face hurt from smiling and laughing so much. A week later we sat on a bench at the bus stop together waiting for his future to arrive. I coughed a few times as I inhaled my smoke. I didn't have to heart to tell him that I'd probably never see him again. fact is my body was failing me. Oh I'd had a good few years left but they'd be rough ones. I hated myself because I knew that Paul wouldn't get the same opportunities at Johnny. I could hide from Johnny, especially with him being away at college and then off flying planes, but Paul had only just stated High school. I prayed that I'd have the strength to see this through with dignity and not take my son with me.

But that's for another time. For now I sit quietly with my eldest son and hold his hand. The bus arrived and he cried. I held his face in my hand and told him just how much I loved him and how very, very proud I was. He cried even more. I cried too. We held on for a few moments before he had to board, so I smartened my self up and tried to smile for him.

As the bus drove off into the distance I finally broke. I knelt on the hard floor and wept until I could weep no more. I wiped my eyes and walked by to the car. I had to pick Paul up from band practice- he'd not wanted to come and see Johnny off- I understood, they'd said their good byes the night before, with a few cans of beer they thought I didn't know about. My heart was heavy that day, my journey was coming to a close and my boy's was just starting. I prayed for him to be safe, it was all I could do for him now.


End file.
